


Summer Skin

by theskywasblue



Category: Wild Adapter
Genre: Licking, M/M, Summer, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-07
Updated: 2010-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kubota, Tokitoh, and a sweating-hot summer night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samsarapine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsarapine/gifts).



> for the prompt "Kubota/Tokitoh: Grooming - airing futons"

It’s too much work to be doing on a sweating hot summer night, when the air is so thick it sticks like rice porridge to the inside of Kubota’s lungs and his cigarettes won’t burn, they only smoulder wetly between his lips, leaving a bad taste in the back of his mouth. He wouldn’t have even bothered with it if not for Tokitoh’s mutterings. Everything stinks, in this kind of heat the city is a festering cauldron of trash, exhaust and sweating bodies. Why should the futon where they slept, or more often didn’t sleep, perspiring helplessly in a tangle of sheets and heavy limbs, be any different?

Still, they drag it, using all the strength they can muster from bodies already exhausted by heat and sleeplessness, onto the balcony to try and air it out.

The night is as stifling outside as much as in. Neither of them can be bothered to try and put it over the railing, so it slides to the concrete, and Tokitoh collapses on it, panting. Kubota joins him, back against the sliding door – which seems to have its own layer of sweat – closing his eyes.

“I don’t think I can make it back inside Kubo-chan.”

“So?” Kubota grunts, “Sleep out here. It’s not any warmer.”

It’s not any cooler either. The world is in stasis, a permanent, apocalyptic swelter. Sweat collects in the canyon on either side of Tokitoh’s spine, in the hollows between his ribs and in the delicate dip at the small of his back.

Kubota’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

“This is gross...”

“What is?”

“This futon,” Tokitoh mumbles, “it stinks. And I stink. And I can’t even shower because it won’t do any good. ”

It doesn’t, they’ve both tried. The relief from the heat is marginal at best, lasting only moments and then it’s just extra humidity, an extra layer of heaviness on the skin. At this stage Kubota doesn’t even think rain would help. It would probably evaporate before it hit the pavement. As it is, he is sure there is a layer of steam rising up from Tokitoh’s shoulders.

The night is unusually dark, everyone has the lights off, afraid of generating any excess heat. The roar of window-box air-conditioners is louder than the traffic. Kubota watches a bead of sweat roll over Tokitoh’s side and disappear beneath his stomach. His throat feels like it’s lined with cotton. Finally he leans forward and runs his tongue up Tokitoh’s spine.

“Kubo-chan...” Tokitoh quivers, his toes curl, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m thirsty.” He traces over Tokitoh’s bottom rib and there’s just enough moisture there to loosen his throat, even the saltiness doesn’t bother him.

“That’s sweat – it’s gross.” He doesn’t try to move away though.

You can go mad from drinking salt water, or so Kubota has heard. You can go mad from the heat too, and he wonders if both at once might somehow cancel each other out, like a double negative.

“Think of it as a bath then.” He makes a broad stroke over the sharp, angel wing-rise of Tokitoh’s shoulder blade and listens to his breath hitch.

“With your tongue? Kubo-chan that’s even _more_ gross.”

“It’s what cats do.”

When he traces the tip of his tongue around the nub of vertebrae at the very base of Tokitoh’s neck, Tokitoh makes a tiny mewling noise and rubs his cheek against the futon, apparently no longer bothered by the reek of heat-smothered bodies it has accumulated. Kubota wonders if they’re giving someone in the building across the way a free show. Not a bad way to spend a hot summer night, really.

-End-


End file.
